Sunday, February 27, 2005
i used to think my mom was a goddess. you must understand that i've never had any siblings; never had anyone to look up to, ergo my mom fills the grey areas in our family portrait and comes into her role just nicely so. larger than life, she edges out the voids of loneliness triggered by the absence of sibling rivalry and love. i've always wanted a bigger brother to assure, hug and kiss my forehead protectively in times of duress, but that's another story.
Kids, they follow whatever they see on TV, i'm apparently one of those whom you despise. the first time i ever had an adequate conversation on the phone was when i gaga-gooed gooed my way over to the coffee table, jangling the receiver awkwardly with my baby hands and poked in 1900*******, while squirming and wriggling out a happy squeamish laughter at the TV who was encouraging me to donate generously to Terry Fox's charity. and gave generously i did, we received a thankyou note and a very stylish telephone bill amounting to $100; courtesy from your new baby girl joyce lim qihui.
rounding back to mommy reading the bill, i remember her eyes rampant with fear, then shock, then perplexity, then amusement as i scrunched up my happy face with a "heh aheh heh", and kindly provided her with an re-enactment of my first telephone call by wildly punching in random digits hopping madly around with one foot with my pathetically wispy ponytail dancing at the top of my forehead.
Nah.. haha like i even knew what a re-enactment was. but yes.. i looked like a chinese cultured Pebbles (from flintstones) back in the good ole days, with dozens of cobwebby donkeytails standing in air, bunched thin together with rubberbands.
rounding back to mommy. i thought she was invincible. the ultimate healer and assurer. she had a comforting touch, soothing to chill bone and skin. see i was often sick, i would lounge around in the living room waiting for her return, she'd come home, lean over, kiss my forehead then press her aloe vera softened hands onto my burning skin and declare that she loved me, that i was going to be all right and would give me another kiss on my eyelashes. i loved that about her. the calm placid way in which she carried herself though the door, the tranquility she brought with her barbra streisand vocals, the coolness and softness of her skin next to mine; and i'd always marvel at the way she managed to stay like that. she was a great thermometer to check my temperature at home, she never fell sick, never had a cold, always felt warm yet cool temperate and endearing. it was like a splash in cool dimpled davidoff waters, lapping lusciously after a searing workout, while she measured the degrees with the palm of her hand.
going off tangent:
and so i've kicked off another hectic schedule for the next 7 to 8 wks or so. post encounter trainings on sundays, rugby matches on sats, relief teaching on wkdays and gym sessions on wknights. i don't knw why i swamp myself with so many activities. am praying to find my solitude in the midst of enjoyable chaos
now this is hardly me after 2 years of angst and self-pity. hardly the kinda thing i'd wanna dive in right now, so i'm praying against distraction and for whole-heartedness.
but whadaheck, i've always loved this song since My Best Friend's Wedding.
You give your hand to me
Then you say hello
I can hardly speak
My heart is beating so
And anyone can tell
You think you know me well
But you don't know me
No, you don't know the one
Who dreams of you at night
And longs to kiss your lips
And longs to hold you tight
Oh I'm just a friend
That's all I've ever been
'Cause you don't know me
I never knew
The art of making love
Though my heart aches
With love for you
Afraid and shy
I've let my chance to go by
The chance that you might
Love me, too
You give your hand to me
And then you say good-bye
I watch you walk away
Beside the lucky guy
You'll never never know
The one who loves you so
Well, you don't know me Joyce Lim unzipped at 11:25 PM with 0 comments
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